


Beyond The Valley of the Smuppets

by Blue_Thallium (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blackrom, Hatesex, John models for puppet porn for profit and later fun, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Blue_Thallium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John fucks up his Dad’s car, and has to come up with money fast.</p><p>Really, really fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond The Valley of the Smuppets

**Author's Note:**

> i havent seen any??? brojohn blackrom fics I don't think. So here we go.

EB: uh... dave’s bro?   
TT: Yo.  
TT: You rang?   
EB: yeah i guess.  
EB: um, first of all, you can’t tell anyone but dave about this.   
TT: Wow boner.   
EB: no.  
EB: look... bluurgh.  
EB: my dad is on vacation and i kind of wrecked up his car.  
EB: not too badly or anything!!  
EB: he said i could use it while he was away, and i as i was pulling it out of the garage, the door came down and i kept driving and i scraped off ALL the paint on the hood.   
TT: Oh man.  
TT: Doesn’t your Dad drive a BMW?   
EB: yup.  
EB: mechanic says it’s gonna cost me $400 to fix.  
EB: i don’t have $400.   
TT: So, what’s this got to do with me?   
EB: dave told me about your business.   
TT: Oh?   
EB: and i need money fast.   
TT: I think I see where this is going.   
EB: yup.   
TT: You want to star in puppet porn for easy money.   
EB: actually i was kind of hoping we could avoid puppets but... if i need to do it i’ll do it.  
EB: what’s the going rate or whatever.   
TT: It kind of depends on how hot you are.  
TT: Usually the more attractive models are in higher demand so they charge more.  
TT: If some gorgeous kid wants like $100 for a couple of pictures, I’d probably okay it.  
TT: But if a total uggo was charging more than like $30, I’d tell ‘em to go stick it.   
EB: oh okay.   
TT: I’m pretty willing to hire you, Egbert. But I’m going to have to ask for just a touch more enthusiasm.   
EB: OH OKAY!!!   
TT: There we go.  
TT: I’m guessing you’d be a lot more comfortable with photos, rather than a video.   
EB: ding ding ding.   
TT: And you can avoid puppets, I guess? But not plush stuff.  
TT: Lucky for you, I just created a new product I think you wouldn’t actually mind modelling.   
EB: christ.  
EB: somehow i doubt that.  
EB: no offense.   
TT: Some taken.  
TT: But seriously, it’s just a pair of underwear.   
EB: oh, actually that sounds pretty okay.   
TT: Yeah, it does.  
TT: But I’m going to have to ask you to...   
TT: Shall we say, audition for this?  
TT: I need a fairly specific kind of dude for this.   
EB: ... what kind of dude.   
TT: You gotta be hung, Egbert.  
TT: Cry discrimination if you want, but nobody wants to buy underpants with a tiny dick in ‘em.  
TT: I’m not asking for anything horse like here. Just... Maybe 5 inches flaccid.  
TT: 6, at a total push, but I realise that’s kind of a ridiculous pipe dream.  
TT: Essentially, I need you to take a picture of your dick next to a ruler.   
EB: can’t you just take my word for it?   
TT: Hahahahahahahahaha.  
TT: No.  
TT: If there’s one thing you never take a man on his word about, it’s the size of his dick.   
EB: okay, goddammit.

[EB] is sending a file! DELETEIMMEDIATLY.png

File received!

TT: Alrighty then.  
TT: You pass the first part of the audition, congratulations.  
TT: I’m assuming you’re a shower, not a grower.   
EB: it gets like an inch and a half bigger or something? Maybe two inches?  
EB: bluh, can we not talk about my penis.   
TT: Okay.  
TT: Let’s talk about your butt.  
TT: I seem to remember you having a pretty fantastic ass.   
EB: do i have to send a picture of that too?   
TT: No, I was just double checking.  
TT: What’s your body like?   
EB: couldn’t you have asked for a topless shot before a picture of me dick?  
EB: you know, ease me in a little???   
TT: I could have.  
TT: I could have.  
TT: The dick is the deal breaker though.  
TT: If I’d asked for a topless shot, then told you you failed the penis test, you’d have just accused me of tricking you into sending a topless picture.   
EB: huh, i guess you’re right.   
TT: So if I could have a picture of you with your shirt off, I’d appreciate it.   
EB: god damn it.

[EB] is sending you a file! DELETEIMMEDIATELY2.png

TT: Okay.  
TT: I’d be pretty comfortable paying you about $50 for every picture I put on the site.  
TT: Honestly, if you were a professional, you could probably ask for about $100, maybe $200 and I’d be pretty happy to pay you that.   
EB: can’t you just pay me $200 a picture then?   
TT: Hahahaha, fuck no, newbie.  
TT: Working with porn virgins, I swear to God, you might as well be working with an actual virgin.  
TT: Plus, it’s an easy ass job.   
TT: Maybe if you were taking a smuppet, or one of my sweet plush dildos (2015 model available this Winter, just in time for Christmas) or making a video of you taking either of those things, I’d be prepared to pay you a lot more.  
TT: But for what is essentially a favour to you.  
TT: $50   
EB: okay, alright that sounds reasonable i guess.  
EB: how are we gonna do this with you all the way over in houston??    
TT: Conveniently, I’m not actually in Houston right now.  
TT: The Annual Plush and Puppetry Fetish Convention (or, APPFet, as we call it in the business) is in Seattle on Saturday, so I’m actually hilariously close to you.   
EB: that is hilarious.   
TT: And according to this google search, tomorrow morning I can be on a bus that will put me a ten minute walk away from your lovely home.  
TT: It’s best to start early, I find, so... I’ll be over for around eleven o’clock.   
EB: wow.  
EB: so i guess i’ll see you tomorrow then.   
TT: It’ll be my pleasure.   
EB: yeah, i bet.   
TT: Before I go, can I quickly ask you not to be too much of an ungrateful little cunt tomorrow?  
TT: Remember, I’m doing you a favour.   
EB: i’m doing you a favor too!!   
TT: Yes, but you’re desperate. I’m not.   
EB: fine!!  
EB: i’m sorry if i’m being an ass i just never thought i’d be in gross fetish porn.   
TT: My heart bleeds for you.  
TT: Absolutely bleeds for you.  
TT: i trashed my daddy’s expensive car and now mean old mr strider is going to pay me for a few pics of me in my undies boohoohoo!!!!!!   
EB: oh come on dude, that’s a little much!!   
TT: I’m trying to get all of my contempt for you out in one go.   
EB: sounds like a great idea!  
EB: hang on, let me try.  
EB: i am a middle aged white rapper!! every single insult i throw is made completely invalid by the fact that i am a middle aged white rapper!! i have a popped collar and i genuinely think i’m cool!!!! i use the word ironic in a completely incorrect context regularly!! LOOK AT ME I HAVE A SHITTY SORD!!!!! PEW PEW PEW CHECK OUT MY SWEET CAP AND AWFUL HAIR.   
TT: I can’t see the hate past your fat, girly ass.   
EB: you said it was pretty fantastic like five minuets ago.   
TT: Yes, it is for this job.  
TT: Because it’s fat and girly.  
TT: Not muscular and tight, like a man’s butt is.  
TT: But fat and girly.  
TT: Like an ideal model for my website. Where we like things soft and furry.   
EB: look, my ass isn’t fat okay, it’s just a little more fleshy than average!!   
TT: Kay.  
TT: Whatever you say buddy.  
TT: Your ass is not fat at all.  
TT: I’m going to go now so... Try not to masturbate yourself into a coma tonight.    
EB: yeah, that’s not very likely.   
TT: Your text says no, but your repeated typing and deleting says yes.   
EB: yeah, im totally jerking myself absolutely senseless right now.  
EB: ooooh fetish man, please, put your strong, plush hands all over my quivering body!!!!  
EB: oooh dave’s bro i’m so hot for you i cant hardly stand it!!   
TT: Cool. This is me having the last word, and signing out.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

EB: oooh bro please rub your puppets on my winky!! i’ve dreamt of this for so long!!!!  
EB: you cheating bastard.

*

John got up early and showered. He shaved, and brushed his teeth at least three times. He might not want to be on the gross puppet fetish site, but if he was going to be, he was going to look damn good while he did it.

And at least he could get his Dad’s car fixed. God only knows the last time John disappointed his father, he barely recovered from it. His nightmares were still haunted by images of his father, eyebrows drawn together, slightly, shaking his head.  
It sent shivers down his spine.

He did, however, refuse to vacuum. He would not break a sweat preparing the house for a guest like Bro Strider. Who he hated. 

Well, hate wasn’t quite the right word – Bro grated on him. He was like Dave if someone went and removed every single one of Dave’s positive qualities then added a weird fetish and a vat load of arrogance. It was different when Dave acted arrogant, because any one with two brain cells that rubbed together could see that Dave was putting it on. It was bravado. Dave sucked, and he knew it.

Bro, however, didn’t know he sucked. And John really thought he sucked. He though he sucked hard. He thought he sucked big floppy donkey dick.

And instead of conceding that he did indeed suck, like Dave would, Bro acted like he didn’t care what John thought?

Which John didn’t get. Because he could just sit there and verbally assassinate everything he held dear, and Bro would just sit there, like he didn’t give a shit. 

Now this was obviously bullshit; people _always_ cared what John thought.

John checked the time (ten to eleven) and swallowed. As eleven o’clock ticked nearer, John swore he could feel himself getting gradually sweatier. He wondered if this was what waiting for the death penalty felt like.

Probably, he concluded. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. All he had to do was pose in a pair of underpants, and get some money, and maybe get laughed at by all of his friends for a couple of years. So maybe it really sucked, but he’d get over it, because all that really mattered was the money. The money. He just had to focus on the money.

Before John could begin to shame spiral, there was a knock at the door. 

“Here we go.” He muttered to himself.

He opened the door, and there was Bro, in all his dumb-shades, sunburnt, be-capped glory. He smiled very tartly, before shoving passed John with a bag and a big case he was dragging along behind him. It was plastic, and it had little wheels. John could see a small pile of equipment inside of it.

“I spent all fucking morning getting verbally abused by Dave.” He said, bitterly. “Have you ever been called a fucking pervert by your own kid? Because I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I need a model, you’re ideal and you need the money. That’s what I told him, he’ll get over it eventually.” Bro ditched his bag and his wheeley-case in front of thee door, then surveyed the living room. He sighed, and walked over to your couch. “Help me move this thing out the way.”

“Fine.” Said John, he tried not to sound put-upon, but failed rather miserably. Bro shook his head. John took one end of the couch, Bro took the other - he took most of the weight as they lifted it to the other side of the room

“I’m in no mood for your shit, kid.” Bro muttered, as they set the couch down by the stairs. Bro was at least careful not to scuff John’s Dad’s precious, gleaming floor. John scowled.

“Don’t call me a fucking kid.” He said. He swore at an adult. He felt like a big man. Bro’s eyebrows rose over the edges of his stupid shades.

“What did I just say?”

John crossed his arms, petulantly. “Maybe I’m not in the mood for your shit either!”

“Maybe you should get in the mood, ‘cause I understand I’m going to be chucking money at you in a couple of hours.” Bro snapped. “Or I could just get another model.” He picked up John’s Dad’s smoking chair, and dropped it, unceremoniously by the couch. He seemed to contemplate the coffee table and the rug, before he dragged them (coffee table still on the rug) over to the corner of the room. John narrowed his eyes.

“You’re saving my ass and I appreciate it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He said. John thought he was being very fair. Bro merely shook his head again, he opened the window and shut the curtains.

“I don’t get why Dave is friends with you.” He said. John rocked on his heels, and forced a grin.

“Well, he’s my best friend, so I must be doing something right.” Said John. He was tempted to add a snide comment about Dave evidently preferring his company to Bro’s, but he decided against it. He needed the money. Bro clicked his tongue.

“You treat him like dirt, kid.” He said. 

“No I don’t.” John protested. Bro, again, shook his fucking head. John clenched his fists. He felt so patronised and affronted and ugh!   
Having noticed the balled fists, the slight shake to John’s voice, a smug little smirk appeared on Bro’s face.  
John’s blood boiled.

“Yeah, you do.” Bro said, flatly. John opened his mouth to reply, and promptly shut it when Bro hooked his thumbs into his pockets, fingers tapping a wallet shaped lump.   
At least John hoped that was his wallet.

“Asshole.” John mumbled. 

Bro stood, smirking, for a moment, before he walked over to his bag. He pulled out something red, and material, wrapped in plastic. He tossed them at John, who caught them with a slight fumble.

“Go put these on. I’m going to set up.” He said. He clicked his plastic box open, and began unpacking his things, while John ripped the plastic off what he assumed was the underwear.

It was a pair of fairly small briefs. They were soft, and downy. John unfolded them, and inspected the front, to find the crotch adorned with a pair of eyes, a smiling mouth, and a small, empty sack, with a little material in the tip to shape it out.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Said John. Smuppet undies, for the love of all that is good and holy, why would Bro make these? John sighed.  
“Does my dick go in the nose?” He asked.

“Yes, your dick goes in the nose.” Bro said, rolling his eyes. “I brought you an L/L, seeing as your ass is so... You know.” John’s nostrils flared, and Bro smirked again. John was prepared to punch him if this carried on. “But if that doesn’t fit, there’s a medium/large in here too.” Said Bro, coolly. “And an XL/L.”

“Why the extra L?” Asked John, trying to keep his mind on his job, and off of strangling Dave’s brother.

“The nose part has a separate size. Based on your picture I got you a Large.” Bro said, with a shrug. John grinned to himself. “Don’t look so smug.” Bro added. 

John took the underwear, and toddled into the kitchen, sure to shut the door and close the blinds before he took off his clothes.

The underwear was way too loose in every department, and John felt just a tad disappointed that he wasn’t a large after all. He poked his head out the door, arms covering his chest self consciously. It had been a while since he’d worked out, and though his arms were still nice and firm, his chest and stomach had lost some of their muscle tone. His chest was a little softer than John was comfortable with, and he’d developed a small tummy. God, he really should have done at least some token sit ups the night before. 

“I think I need a medium/medium.” He grumbled. Bro was in the corner, hanging a huge black sheet over John’s fireplace. He turned around and instructed John to come out and show him. The briefs were so loose, John had to keep one hand hooked into them. Bro considered John’s crotch for a moment, before shaking his head.

“... Medium/large.” He decided. John frowned.

“... But. It’s too loose.” He said, gesturing vaguely to his crotch. Bro shook his head again.

“That’s ‘cause you’re not supposed to wear them soft.” He said. John blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to have to get a boner.”

John’s jaw fell open. “What?” Bro gave him a look, the kind of look that said ‘I think John Egbert is a fucking moron’.

“Well, they’d look fucking stupid otherwise.” He said.

“Oh my _God_!” John stomped back into the kitchen, and slammed the door closed behind him. “You never said there’d be boners involved!” He yelled.

“Life’s a bitch, go get yourself hard.” Said Bro.

John retrieved his laptop from his sylladex, and sat huffily at the kitchen table. While Bro clattered and swore next door, John searched through his porn folder, trying to find something he liked enough that would get him off, even in these decidedly un-sexy circumstances.  
He picked the video of the blonde with the tits, and the red head with no tits making out while the asian guy sucked off this twink.  
The blonde fingered the redhead, who played with her nipples, then the asian guy got his face jazzed on. He crawled over to the blonde, who then sat on his face, while the twink watched, and sucked at the redhead’s neck.

John watched, scowling, with his hands in the underwear.

This was doing nothing for him.

Any semblance of a boner he might have had disappeared when Bro banged on the door.

“Egbert, I’m set up. I’ve been set up forever, what gives?”

“I can’t get it up.” John grunted. There was a slap, like Bro had collapsed, annoyed, against the wood.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

There was a pause. “Are you using a magazine or anything?”

“Well duh. I’ve got a dirty movie. It isn’t working.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bro whined. “Do I have to come in there and help out?” He asked. The door twitched and John flew from his seat, and grabbed the handle, resting all his weight against it.

“What the fuck, no!” He protested.

“Are you positive?”

“Fuck, just... hold on.” John lay against the door, and tried to think. Anything. He thought about the pretty girl with the afro in his chemistry class, and how good her curls smelt, and how she always had this amazing cleavage. He tried to think about fucking her, but he was distracted by the sound of Bro fucking muttering away to himself on the other side of the door.  
He changed his train of thought. Tried to recall the last time he saw the guys, and he and Rose had had a little tryst. He tried to remember the way her breasts had looked, the sounds she’d made while he touched her, the feel of her hands on his cock.

He heard Bro stumble and swear loudly, and he was knocked off kilter again. He swore loudly, and tried thinking about fucking the cute barista at Costa, like... on the counter or something, but that didn’t work either (it was a fucking weak fantasy, let’s face it.) Bro banged on the door again, and John hissed a “Fuck off.” 

“I’m coming in.” He said, simply, and John was knocked half way across the room while Bro burst in. He eyed John’s cock, which was hanging over the waistband of the underwear. “Hey, you’re at least half mast.” He said. John gritted his teeth.

“Will you fuck off!”

“Nope.” Bro approached him, and reached out to take his cock. John leapt back.

“Ugh, seriously dude I don’t want you anywhere near my dick, the thought is having the opposite effect from what we’re going for.” Bro simply whipped off his shirt (God he was in good shape – especially for his age – John flushed with embarrassment) “What is that supposed to be enticing me here or something?”

“No. This is a black shirt and I have to get the bus home.” Said shirt gets tossed into the living room. Bro continues his advance, and John leaps back into the corner of the room, trapping himself, and tripping over his own feet in the process.

“Seriously, dude get the fuck away from me!” John whined. Bro stood too close, then fell to his knees.

“No, we have a job to do and we’re going to get it done!”

“God, you’re s disgusting and infuriating and uuugh!” John whinged. Bro shoved his hips, and took John’s cock in his hand. John couldn’t bring himself to look, and stared off at the sink, scowling haughtily.

“God, fucking look at you, it’s like you think I want to suck your dick or something.” Bro sneered. He squeezed John’s cock a little too hard, and John squeaked. “Fact of the matter is, sometimes models need fluffing, it happens, someone’s got to do it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s really going to get me going.” John grumbled. Bro tipped up his shades, and licked the tip of John’s cock, earning him a small hiss. John berated himself inwardly for giving it to him. 

“Boo-fucking-hoo. You don’t want me to do this, I am happy to just stick my fingers up your ass and bully your prostate till your dick gets up.” Said Bro, and for show, he reached around and roughly squeezed John’s ass. John’s dick twitched, and he cringed at himself. “Wow, so what, are you into threats or assplay?” Bro mocked.

“I’m not into either, you’re just making me so fucking angry!”

“And it’s going straight to your dick.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” John said, through his teeth. He added an “Ugh.”

Bro smirked. John wanted to punch him. Bro’s fingers drifted up his thighs, and grabbed the beginnings of love handles forming on John’s hips.

“You’re a little soft around the middle, ain’t you?” He then pressed John’s tummy for emphasis. John growled under his breath and smacked at Bro’s hands.

“Wow, yeah, great this is totally going to help.”

“It’s okay, I like fat boys. Most of my models are a little porky.”

“I’m not fat okay, I just having worked out in forever.” John complained. Again, his fury was going pretty much straight to his dick, and his head was suddenly filled with the image of John cramming his cock down Bro’s throat, just to shut him the fuck up.

“Yeah, it shows.” Said Bro. 

“God, I hate you so much.” Bro repeated this back to him in a mocking voice, before taking half of John’s length into his mouth. “So much.” John grunted. He thought about just ramming his cock as far into Bro’s mouth as he could take, but he decided instead to take in the sight of Bro sucking on him – submissive to him. Quiet. 

When John was hard, Bro pulled away and John fought back a whine. “The feeling is pretty fucking mutual kid.” He said. “You’re hard enough.” He gave John’s cock a light slap, and went back into the living room, where he pulled on his shirt.

“Yeah, great, thanks.” John said, as he tried to manoeuvre his now hard cock into the nose of the smuppet briefs. He succeeded. He looked fucking ridiculous. 

“Oh don’t bitch. You behave yourself, maybe I’ll finish your grumpy ass off when we’re done.” Bro said, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, as John shuffled awkwardly into the living room. Bro looked him up and down, somehow managing to look appreciative and contemptuous at the same time. “Kay, stand in front of the back drop, I’ll check if I need to adjust the lighting.” John did as he was told, standing with his hands covering his cock, with a red face, as Bro analysed him through the view finder of his camera. He took a few test shots (lights around him flashing intensely as he did) before he screwed the camera to a tripod. He checked the photos he’d taken, before nodding. “Lighting’s fine. Boner looks great.”

“Thanks.” John sneered. Bro sneered back.

“Okay, stand with your ass to the camera, and make like you’re about to pull them off.” Again, John did as he was told. He tried to keep his mind on the money, but all he could think about was Bro, and his loathsome little smirk, and how lascivious his eyes look and his voice sounded as the camera snapped and he purred “Great,” John bit back a swear. His cock jumped. “Turn so your side is facing me, and stretch up. Stick your ass out, the way you might if you were trying to seduce your best friend’s handsome brother.” John glared at him before bending his back and stretching. Bro chuckled, “Okay, that’s hot, nice,” He took a couple of shots, before sitting back, seemingly contemplating John. He was a tad pink in the face, and he seemed to be breathing heavily. John could not decide whether to feel violated or smug.   
“Now kind of rub your dick.” Bro instructed. John balked.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“That’s fucking embarrassing!” He snarled. Bro tapped his foot.

“That’s fifty dollars.” He had a point. John, rather petulantly, grabbed his cock and pumped his fist, toes curling at the rub of the soft material

“Fine, is this what you want?” He asked. Bro watched him with disturbingly hungry eyes, and John glared, angrily rubbing himself. John didn’t think he’d ever masturbated angrily before, so the experience was rather strange. 

“Yes, that is exactly what I want, Egbert.” Bro said. John couldn’t help but notice that his voice sounded thick. “Pull the shorts down at the sides. So they’re kind of puling on your cock and some of your ass is out.” John, now too annoyed to argue, did as instructed. Bro purred, “Beautiful.”

“This is getting really weird.” Said John. Bro stood up from his camera, about to say something, when John squawked and pointed at his crotch. “Oh my God, is that a boner? Do you have a boner right now?!”

“Maybe a little,” Bro shrugged, John dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and groaned. He’d never been so irritated by a boner in his life. “What can I say, you’re an asshole but you’re hot.”

“You’re just an asshole.”

“Yeah, you’ve been getting progressively harder through this whole thing, don’t make faces at me like I didn’t notice.” Bro said. John was aware of the fact he’d actually gotten a rise out of someone who, in John’s experience, barely spoke outside a monotone.   
“So what, you like getting looked at? It’s like a voyeurism kind of thing?” Bro said. John cupped his hands over his crotch, his face burning.

“It’s not!” He cried. Bro scoffed and put his hands on his hips, sticking the lump in his jeans out like a threat. Or an invitation. John’s head was inclined to think of it like a threat, but other, more disobedient parts of his anatomy disagreed.

“Why are you even fucking bothering to argue here, you’re standing here with a raging fucking hard-on, and you’re actually fucking arguing with me that this isn’t turning you on!” Bro said, apparently in complete disbelief. John avoided his eye, and snorted.

“Because it isn’t!” He protested. Bro stomped over to him, teeth clenched. There was this popping vein in his forehead, John felt like it was staring at him at him. Bro gave him an outraged little shrug, and John sensed he may have wounded his pride.

“Oh fuck you, Egbert, fuck you! As if you’d turn down a blow job right now.” 

At this point, John had to pause. Because no, no he totally wouldn’t turn down a blow job. But, he didn’t want to admit that he was turned on by awful fucking Bro or his awful fucking photographs.

His mind worked quickly to answer the question: “How do I get a blowjob without it sounding like I actually want one?”

“I would totally take a blow job! I wouldn’t turn down a chance to choke you to death with my fucking dick!” Bingo.

Bro took off his cap, his shades and his shirt. “I’d like to see you fucking try.” He said. He dropped to his knees and yanked down John’s underwear. Then he yanked the rest of John down to.  
He hit the floor with a thud, and Bro made a snide comment about John’s butt being like a perfect airbag. John was seriously, totally super seriously a second away from smacking Bro right across the mouth when he crawled up John’s legs, and wrapped his lips messily around John’s cock.

John had never been glared at during a blowjob before, but it was doing sort of really funny things to his insides, where he wasn’t sure if he wanted to thank Bro for all the favours he’d done John today, or whether he wanted to kick him in the fucking balls and masturbate over his sobbing, screaming body.

Wow okay that train of thought got real weird real fast.

Bro seemed to be a little more bitey than John was entirely comfortable with, and when he blatantly and deliberately _dragged his fucking teeth_ up John’s shaft, John grabbed his hair, and shoved down his head. Bro coughed, and gagged, throat pulsing around him, and John’s hips drove up into his mouth. He fisted Bro’s hair as hard as he could, and only let go when Bro’s teeth were suddenly putting on a dangerous degree of pressure.

“Watch your goddamn teeth!” John protested. He was aware that he was close, and that maybe he should be nice until he at least got off.

“Watch my goddamn hair, maybe I’ll watch my teeth.” Said Bro. He took John’s balls in his hands, and played with them roughly. Enough that it was painful, but still drew a hiss from John. “You close?” He asked.

“Yeah.” John mumbled. 

“How close?” Bro, for effect, flickered his tongue over the head of John’s cock. John’s hips twitched.

“Pretty fucking close.” He said. Bro smiled, and stood up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Thanks for telling me, because I’m not swallowing your shit. You finish yourself off.” He said.

John gathered himself. John would not beg for a handjob. John would not cry and beg Bro to suck him off. John was a strong man. 

“What like, we can’t even rub our dicks together or something, are you seriously kidding?” John was a weak man, a very weak man.

“Can’t do.” Bro muttered.

“Why, are you done?” John asked, half annoyed, half about to piss himself because wow that is hilarious and lame, and wow, just. Wow.   
“Are you seriously fucking done, just ‘cause you sucked my dick!?” He asked. Bro flipped him the bird, and stuffed his shades back onto his face (which was red, and a little wet where he’d drooled, where his eyes had watered) “Wow, that is pathetic.” John snorted.

“It’s been a while, and I like giving blow jobs.” Bro grunted. There was a rather large, sticky spot half an inch below the waistband of his sweat pants. John snorted, almost amused enough to forget that he’d been left high and dry. Almost. Almost.

“I like how you took off your shirt because you didn’t want to make a mess of yourself, but you still made a mess of your pants.” He sniggered. Bro’s shirt lay by his side, and John was struck with an idea. A idea for a complete dick move.  
John picked up the shirt and, after shooting a small smirk in Bro’s direction, balled it up in his left hand, working his dick with his right.

“Don’t you dare go fucking jerk off into my shirt!” Bro protested. Though he made no move to stop John, and watched him with the same hungry, glaring eyes he’d had while he sucked on John. John let his eyes flutter shut, and after a few pumps of his fist, he came right into the shirt. He tossed it back at Bro.  
“Oh you total fucking piece of shit.” He grumbled. John was almost worried he’d done himself out of his pay for the sake of one upping Bro, but luckily the shirt had been inside out. 

Bro pulled on the shirt, and pulled out his wallet, grumbling under his breath the entire time, while John ditched the stupid smuppet undies and sat up. Bro dropped a handful of bills on him.  
“Here’s $200.”

John gathered up the bills and blustered, “But... You know that’s only half as much as what I need!”

“Yeah, life’s a bitch ain’t it? But I got what I needed, and there’s no fucking way I’m paying you for something I don’t need.” Bro shrugged, and made a move to take down the backdrop.

“Well... What do you need?” Said John, despite himself. What the hell had he gotten himself into? “What do I have to do to get another $200.”

Bro thought for a moment, leaving the backdrop be.

“... A video.” He said.

“Huh?”

“A video of yourself using one of my vibrators.” John shook his head. “There’s one I’ve had on the market for a few weeks that I still haven’t gotten a model for. I’d be prepared to pay $200 for a video of that.”

“No deal.” John snapped.   
Then he remembered the car.  
He remembered his Dad.  
He remembered his Dad’s ‘disappointment’ face.

“Okay, fuck it. Fuck. Deal, it’s a deal.” 

Bro smiled.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh I'm only going to plug this like once or twice, but I have a writing blog on tumblr (bluethallium.tumblr.com) so if you want the fics, or to ask me anything fic/writing-related without my terrible personal posts, go there :3


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